easy with bacon in the bathtub

The sunlight in my room is way too intense during the day, haven’t gotten curtains yet, getting to it but it’s not a priority for me right now.

So, I’ve taken to writing in the bathroom, in the empty tub with the window open. I’m working on a bigger piece of writing. A music write-up of sorts. My weekend words. It’s good. It’s potent. It means something to me.

But I’m putting it off.

Here is a poem for people who take their time.

Lay down a towel in the tub,

find the right position.

Read your tarot cards.

Type up paragraph after paragraph,

decipher your own scribbled print.

What was I feeling at that moment? How can I capture it?

Yell HELLO at your roommate when he gets home,

SMILE when he pulls back the shower curtain, sits down on the toilet seat, and offers you his jay

Ask about his day

Talk about yours

This is the art of living.

Crawl out of the tub, leaving your phone and computer

to devote your whole body and mind and soul to a song

Fondle the keys with more care than knowledge

Fall in love with your own tenderness

Find flow

Then

Grow quiet —

When you need more information

When you need more time to feel your feelings without responding to them

When the warped tones coming from your lips don’t sound like you anymore

Crawl back into the tub

It’s time —

— to listen.

These words are starting to feel cheesy and stale the more I read them

— but I’m offering them to you, the digital world, as a yet another sign of my dedication

to my artistic habits.

All I ever wanted to be was myself.

What’s the point of a personal essay? Am I trying to share something with you ~OR~ am I trying to sort something out for myself?

Both.

Writers write yo

And we can’t all focus our brain functioning on digesting the disgusting political climate,

~ not trying to make it all about me ~

but

the world is full of people who just want to have a conversation — to ease their broken heart, to pass the time, to feel light, to feel real. People who like songs, people who ate a particularly good sandwich that day, people who don’t have too much to say

Went to the music store earlier and the dudes were so nice and they asked me about myself and music and I said that really I’m a writer who likes to sing and express words and ideas with my voice but I started playing in a band with my dear friend about three years ago and now music has turned into a pretty serious habit and I think the world needs more lullabies, so

What’s my MO?

“I think I talk to you best when I sing, I sing about almost everything”

My favorite line from that Manchester Orchestra song The River, Me and my old time boyfriends drove around listening to it on repeat one summer night, maybe 2009, in Apex and Cary, through neighborhoods and farming lands,

there is no sense in my fingertips to make this more romantic. We were just kids who liked how the music made us feel. How the lyrics stuck with us: